


and so the stars watched.

by aionimica



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, a collection of fen'harel's love poems, digging in the dirt, not really but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aionimica/pseuds/aionimica
Summary: It was another mission, another scavenging hunt in the Emerald Graves. Some tombs had been found, call the Inquisition! There were some new elven artifacts, take Solas with you! And so there they were, huddled in a cave with rainwater dripping on her head, reading through a moldy scroll, reading old elven far beyond her comprehension and finding a rather detailed description of the body of Fen’Harel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [ this lovely post](http://existentiallyqueers.tumblr.com/post/158601259461) and I just had to get this prompt out of my head. I hope you enjoy!

“Oh, gods, why didn’t you warn me?” Ellara slammed down the text, closing her eyes, desperately trying to get the image from her mind.

It was another mission, another scavenging hunt in the Emerald Graves. Some tombs had been found, _call the Inquisition_! There were some new elven artifacts, _take Solas with you_! And so there they were, huddled in a cave with rainwater dripping on her head, reading through a moldy scroll, reading old elven far beyond her comprehension and finding a rather detailed description of the body of Fen’Harel.

“Warn you of what?” Solas peered around the bronze urn between them, his ears perked.

“This!” She waved the scroll in the air before furiously bringing it back in her lap. “I really didn’t want to teach myself the meaning of fenedhis in this context. Especially Fen’Harel’s.”

Solas disappeared.

Ellara shook her head. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I can’t even understand half of what this is about. Half of it is incomprehensible, talking about elven women searching after a god of deceit and–   Oh. And – Oh. I understand this. I’m not going to read that, it’s a whole text describing their rather…. explicit… relations with Fen’harel. I think. Or it could be describing his shoe size, I’m not sure.”

She blinked and looked a little closer. “No, yeah, I was right the first time. Definitely talking about his illustrious dick and it’s mischievousness: tricking young women into bed with him so that he could– and I don’t know that word, excellent. For once, I’m glad to not know that word.”

“Oh?” For some reason Solas suddenly sounded very far away.

“Oh yes,” Ellara said and blushed for the third time while scanning the inscription. “And it’d be really helpful if you could help me.”

“I’d prefer not to, actually.”

She glanced up and could barely see the curve of his back from behind the urn. “I’m surprised you didn’t comment on the fact that I knew the elven word for dick. It’s not exactly one that they like to teach in the clan.”

Solas swallowed, currently consumed with another text. “I didn’t notice.”

Ellara frowned. “Sure you didn’t. Alright here is something different. _Fen’harel’s stature made him feared_ or is that revered, I’m not sure–”

It took him long enough, but when he came, he took his him, his hand touching her shoulder, his chin leaning on her head. “Feared,” he clarified.

“Feared, then. _Fen’Harel’s stature made him a feared fixture in the eyes of the Ashal’myari Dalish, though some viewed him in a different light_ …” Ellara coughed suddenly. “Aaaaand here is another six paragraphs describing Fen’Harel’s thighs. Or a tree named after his thighs but I’m pretty sure this is actually talking about Fen’Harel’s thighs.”

Solas was oddly silent.

“Why did they care so much about his thighs? Is there some legend about Fen’harel that my clan decided to not share? Is there some story about how his – and I’m quoting now – _muscled thighs shone in moonlight that urged the stars to watch as_ –”

“Inquisitor!”

“What?” She stared at him. Solas was staring at her, mouth hanging open in objective horror. A brilliant pink tinged his ears and ran down his throat. “What is it?” Ellara stared back at the text. “Did I mistranslate it again?”

Solas shook his head. “No, no, I just –”

“Seriously, stop being so weird and help me figure this out.”

The elf mage groaned and pulled himself over. “And why do you want to translate this text, out of all of them–” he gestured to the piles of other pages scattered around them “– so badly?”

“Because I started this one, and I’m going to finish it.” Ellara was sure she looked insane, but she wasn’t one to give up. And she was definitely not going to be defeated by some poorly written and atrociously translated Fen’Harel erotica. Not when she could take this back to Varric. “Now is this talking about a tree or his thighs?”

Solas scanned for a moment and the pink in his ears turned bright red. He groaned. “His thighs.”

“Aha! I knew it.” She stopped for a moment, the vallaslin on her cheeks pulling up as she frowned. “But why would they talk about his thighs and the cries of stars?”

“I really would not care to speculate,” Solas said, his voice oddly pained.

“Why, got something against the Dread Wolf?” Once again, no response. Instead Solas just looked like he was trying to look very busy.  “I’d like to see those thighs, if I’m being honest. I mean, listen. – _the moans of those fortunate enough to experience his pleasure_ –or wait, his particular? No, no, it’s definitely pleasure. Something, something, ooo! _would tell tales of long hands and deft fingers, the mouth roving across the body – exploring, tasting_ , plucking? No that doesn’t make any sense…”

Ellara frowned and bit her lip. The ending was the same, but the verb was not… “Sucking?”

It was at that point that Solas tackled her.


End file.
